Unlikely Hero
by Loveless6825
Summary: How did Halt really meet Pauline; and what happened when he did? Was it a disaster, or love at first sight? Halt/Pauline. T for mild swearing. Spoilers for book eight! Written a long time ago, please excuse the horrible writing. Complete!
1. Chapter 1: Suspicions

**All right. Oh, can you tell it's me? XD! I start every chappy or story like that, I know. That's a sure sign it's me. It's like my...signature or something. So how about we get on with the story and read? XD!**

Unlikely Hero

Summary: How did Halt _really_ meet Pauline; and what happened when he did? Was it a disaster, or love at first sight? Halt/Pauline Halt/Crowley

*Rated T for swearing and some violence. Parents are strongly warned.

Chapter One: Suspicions

As always, Crowley was busy. He was always doing something seemingly important, Halt thought somewhat bitterly. It was as if he tried to drive him away. As if that would ever happen; Crowley was the only one Halt wasn't too shy to talk to. And Halt was incredibly shy.

He didn't like Redmont fief very much, nor the castle; it was much too noisy for his taste, too crowded. Most of the time he wondered how on earth he was still alive, surviving this horrible place. Dun Kilty was even better than this place, in his opinion, and he had run for his life from that place. It had either been that or be killed by his twin brother, Ferris, who wanted the crown. Halt hadn't wanted the crown at all, but, of course, he had been the first born, and thus destined for a life of being the crown Prince of Hibernia. He had hated it.

Since he was ashamed of both running away and being a Prince, Halt made sure to keep his position in life a secret from everybody except Crowley, who had found out eventually, by guessing and putting together all the clues, such as why Halt looked so much like Prince Ferris, why he had a very thick Hibernian accent, and other things among those.

But unlike everyone else who noticed these strange aspects about Halt, Crowley persisted on knowing the whole truth. Halt both admired and hated him for it. Crowley had found him briefly after he had run away from his home and ended up in Araluen, and Halt still marveled at how Crowley had managed to teach him the ways of something called a Ranger, a protector of the kingdom, and Crowley still marveled at how everything came easily to Halt, the last person he had expected to get the hang of any of the training.

Training. Halt had never done such a thing before at Dun Kilty, knowing that all he had to do was call for a servant to do anything for him: get him something to eat or drink, fetch him a book to read, bring his younger sister to his room so he could talk to her for a while in quiet voices so that Ferris or their parents would not hear them, so that they would not know about the special bond Halt and Caitlyn shared, or that Halt really could talk, and was not, after all, a mute.

Halt was most certainly not a mute.

With a muffled curse he gripped his hand, as he had just cut himself on his throwing knife; having been bored, he had gone down to the edge of the forest to continue training with his bow, saxe knife, and throwing knife. While pondering, deep in thought, he had unconsciously squeezed the sharp blade of the smaller of the knives in his left hand, effectively making a deep slice appear on his palm. Crimson blood slipped quietly down the inside of his forearm, and he moped at it with his cloak sleeve.

Ranger cloaks. They were so odd! A mixture of greens and grays, something Crowley called camouflage, Halt could practically become invisible while wearing it. Being invisible was something that he liked, having had always wished for invisibility when he was a year younger, as he had been seventeen when he had run away from Dun Kilty.

"Damn," Halt muttered, clutching his still-bleeding hand. If anything, the flow had increased in speed and amount. Brilliant; this was exactly what he needed. Dropping his stained throwing knife to the ground, he gritted his teeth against the pain, and wrapped his hand up in a piece of cloth, torn straight from his tunic. Then he ran back up the the castle, knowing that he needed to clean the wound to fight infection.

He had always been a small boy, quite a bit below average height, with dark hair he kept a bit long and sharp, stern features, as well as keen, very dark brown eyes and fair skin, as if he had just gone through a somewhat warm winter and was freshly pale, but still with color to him. His voice was quite deep, but soft-spoken, with that wretched accent that betrayed him as a Hibernian, and people were usually surprised at how intelligent he was.

Having reached Redmont's castle, Halt slipped into the courtyard, but froze in place when he saw Crowley. Crowley was suppose to be working, wasn't it? In his room. Not out here in the courtyard—with a girl his age! What was this? Crowley had told Halt he needed to work, and was extremely busy. Not too busy to be out here with a girl, Halt thought curiously. So this was why his friend had seemed so distant and work-plagued all week.

At least now he knew. But who was the girl? Even from this far-away distance, Halt could tell that she was very pretty; she was tall, like Crowley, with long blonde hair and fair skin, and she carried herself erect with dignity and grace. That was all Halt could see, though; her back was to him.

And now he was angry. Crowley had lied to him! His temper had always gotten the better of him, and of course he stormed right over to where his one and only friend was, with that girl. "So you can put off your work to be with her," he cried as he came up behind Crowley, "but you can't even spend two minutes talking to me?"

"H-Halt?" Crowley spun around, looking devastated at being caught, and went pale, and then red. "Ah—I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just, uh..."

"What the hell _is_ this?" Halt demanded, still very hurt and angry. He raised both hands accusingly, and Crowley caught sight of the bloody, saturated cloth around Halt's wound, and his face blanched.

"What have you done to your hand, Halt?" he exclaimed.

"It doesn't matter right now!" Halt snapped. But Crowley caught his wrist in an iron grip and removed the sopping cloth carefully, grimacing as he saw the wound.

"Dear God, Halt, what did you do to yourself?" He sighed quietly. The girl, who was definitely beautiful now that Halt could see her clearly, with her pretty blonde hair, flawless face, and large gray eyes, peered around Crowley to take a look, and blinked in both concern and shock. In Halt's opinion, the wound wasn't very serious, but these two acted as if the world was coming to an end!

"You need to get a physician or somebody to clean this up," Crowley said seriously. "You'll need a lot of stitches, Halt. How did this happen?"

As always, Halt mumbled the reply. He hated admitting to any weaknesses, and now that the initial anger and outrage was over, his shyness took place again. The fact that this girl was extremely attractive didn't make it much better, and he stumbled over the words.

"What?" Crowley said, frowning. "I couldn't hear you. Stop mumbling so much, and speak up."

"I was training...," Halt muttered, a bit more loudly, and pulled his wounded hand out of Crowley's grasp. He hated being babied like this. "I held onto my throwing knife too hard. Nothing very serious; I'll be fine in a moment."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Of course you will; you're only bleeding all over the place. And you tore your tunic. Go put on something decent, and Pauline here will go get a physician with me. We'll be back in a little bit. Oh, and Halt?" he added as Halt turned away, glaring at the world in general. "You'd better tell your mentor what happened, or else he'll most likely mommy all over you."

"I've never heard the word 'mommy' used as a verb," the girl—Pauline?—said in a voice that was every bit as graceful and pretty as her figure. "I'll have to use that term more often; I quite like it."

Halt scowled, and stalked out of the courtyard.

**So how do you like it so far? ^?^ I just luvvers Halt soooo muchers :D! XD geez I'm a dork. Well, Halt is 18 in this, by the way. There will be tons of chappies for you guys(:**

**Anyway, this story is rated T for many reasons. First of all, Halt and Crowley swear, as you read from when Halt was angry at Crowley and when he—oopsies—cut himself. Second of all, there is some violence and blood. There is also kissing in some parts. So parents are strongly warned of this. I'll write some more in a bit haha! I might even write like, 5 chappies today. That would be ahwesome. So what do you do now? Read and rate, of course XD!**

**Velvet out!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Forcing of the Truth

**All right. Yes, it's me again XD! All in the same day, too. Isn't that interesting? Meh, not really. So anyway, do you really want to read this? Raise your hands if that's a yes *Everyone raises their hands* ^?^ Ty XD! I luvvers you all. So anyway; why aren't you reading?**

Chapter Two: A Forcing of the Truth

Silently as possible, Halt crept through the door of the small apartment he and his mentor shared, and concentrated on getting to his chambers without being seen by Stenmin, his mentor who liked to scold Halt as much as possible.

Everyone always thought that Stenmin was a mommying, bad-tempered worrier that doted on Halt. Oh, how wrong they were! Halt marveled at how nobody seemed to hear Stenmin screaming at him, the rare crash of items breaking as Stenmin threw Halt's belongings to the floor, or the cries of pain as his mentor hit him.

After going from being a pampered, quiet Prince to an abused, silent, small boy, Halt's sense of reality was seriously screwed up. He was halfway to his bedroom when a snide voice caused him to freeze where he was standing, open-mouthed, eyes wide in horror.

"What are you doing, boy?"

"I'm, um..." Halt didn't know what to say, and made the mistake of turning around, sporting his bloody hand and arm, torn tunic, muddy cloak, and scuffed-up leather boots. Then he realized he had left his throwing knife at the edge of the forest. Damn it! Stenmin would _kill_ him!

Of course, Stenmin noticed this just as Halt did. "Where is your throwing knife, Halt?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice. "And why is your surcoat torn up? Were you out with some girl?"

"N-no, Sten—" Halt was cut off as he received a sharp slap across the face, and pressed his non-injured hand to his smarting cheek, only to have it shoved away. Hard punches showered his head and face, giving him a bloody nose and chipped tooth. Stenmin only stopped when Halt's head hit the wall with a small _bang_, and Halt slid to the floor, holding his hands and arms in front of him for protection against the beatings.

After a moment, Halt realized that the apartment was silent, and then slowly stood up, holding one hand beneath his nose to make sure none of the blood dripped to the floor, and crept to his bedroom, fighting against the howl of pain and misery that was struggling to rip its way out of him. It would have to try a little harder; Halt wouldn't give in. Not until he was completely positive he was alone, at least.

Very quietly closing the door behind him, Halt backed onto his small bed, taking a deep breath before gingerly touching his wound; Stenmin had dug his nails into it while he had been punching Halt, and it ached and throbbed so much that Halt could hardly remember what it had felt like when it was not hurting. It was bleeding again, too, harder than before.

Halt leaped a foot into the air as there was a knock on the door, and then went to answer it, opening the dark, oiled door only slightly. What he saw made him want to die: Crowley was here, as well as the girl, and a young woman who was, no doubt, a physician. Crowley grinned at him, but his smile faded when he saw Halt's more recent injuries.

"What happened?" he asked immediately, looking shocked. Halt shook his head slightly, and said in a quiet voice, "Battleschool apprentices caught me on my way back to the apartment. I'll be fine, don't worry."

Crowley could never know what Stenmin was really like. Nobody could.

"Well, can we please come in?" Crowley inquired, and Halt nodded, opening the door a bit wider. The three came in, Halt backing away warily to the couch, and with a rush of pure hatred remembered that Stenmin had just been sitting there.

"So," Halt said in a slight mumble when they were all settled. "Why are we all here, then?"

"To stitch up your hand," the girl, Pauline, replied brightly. "Did you hurt it again? Illidia will be able to fix anything that's hurt; she even knows cures for colds and bruises! You'll be good as new in no time at all, Halt."

The physician, Illidia, nodded cheerfully, and smiled at Halt, who felt very uncomfortable. He didn't like visitors, and Stenmin would be back at any moment, he knew. What would Stenmin do after Crowley and the other two left? At this thought, Halt knew he had to keep these three here as long as possible. And to do that he would have to stall for time, struggle when they tried to treat him, and keep them talking.

"So, how do you cure a cold?" he asked casually, trying to overcome his shyness to save his life. The woman Illidia launched into a full-blown, detailed explanation, and Halt pretended to be listening carefully, intrigued, while silently applauding his cleverness. Sadly, Crowley knew exactly what Halt was trying to do, but suspected all different reasons.

"Illidia," he said loudly. "Don't you have to leave in half an hour? We're wasting time here, you know."

"Oh!" Illidia blinked, and then grinned. "Sorry."

Halt swore to himself; stupid Crowley. Stupid, dumb, foolish Crowley. Of course, when he glared at his friend, Crowley only smirked at him, thinking that Halt merely didn't want to be babied by Illidia. At the moment, Halt didn't exactly care who babied him, or how. Pauline was silent, gazing at him thoughtfully, and he glanced at her for a moment.

The moment their eyes met Pauline looked away, and Halt concentrated on struggling with Illidia, who grasped his wrist and tried to do her work on him. Crowley, of course, didn't notice how Halt didn't look angry, but horrified, and that his eyes were locked on the tall figure that stood in the doorway.

Stenmin stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him, eyes burning. He was quite obviously drunk, Halt saw with terror; Stenmin was going to beat his ass like there was no tomorrow. It had happened last week. Crowley had been over, just like this, when Stenmin came back drunk, and when Crowley left Halt had received the beating of his life.

And this time he had two women in the apartment, even though they were only trying to stitch up his wound. Like Stenmin would notice.

Oh, dear God. He was going to be _killed_ ! What would Stenmin do to him this time? He definitely wouldn't stop at merely beating him; last time another boy his age had been in the room with him, and Stenmin had destroyed him. This time girls were involved, too. And knowing his mentor, the wrong idea would most certainly be thought of.

"You—you should all go," he managed to stammer, and Crowley trailed his gaze over to where Stenmin was. "Thanks for stitching up my hand," he said, gazing down at the half-finished work, "and I'll see you at dinner tonight, Crowley, since I'm sleeping over there. Remember?"

Crowley nodded, and the others stood up to leave. "Good-bye, Halt," Crowley said brightly. "I'll see you later, all right?"

"Yes, yes," Halt said hastily. "Good-bye." He shut the door firmly behind the three, and then turned to face Stenmin, who smelled strongly of whiskey, and was fuming with drunken rage and fury.

It was like a bomb had gone off.

After what seemed like years, the beating was over, leaving Halt unconscious on the floor, face-down, his mentor breathing very hard, standing over him, and half the apartment quite literally torn apart from Stenmin's wrath.

It was two hours from sundown when Halt finally drifted away, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly lifted himself off the ground, gazing around for Stenmin. He was alone in the apartment, thankfully, and Halt hauled himself up off of the ground, heading to the washroom to clean himself up so he could get ready to go to Crowley's apartment, across the castle.

Scrubbing the dried blood off of his face, Halt winced at the various injuries and bruises as he ran the rough, damp cloth over them, but was soon looking a lot better. He didn't bruise easily at all, and when he did they were always hard to see, unless he was hit extremely hard. And Stenmin wasn't one to do that; he never let bruises show on Halt, or else somebody might get a bit suspicious.

Briefly washing his hair, Halt gazed at himself in the mirror for a moment, and then nodded. He looked all right. A bit shaken, and his sharply-shaped eyes looked a bit larger and more wild than usual, but all right.

Then he got ready to go to Crowley's own apartment that he shared with his perfect, kind mentor, of whom Halt was jealous of. He wished his mentor was like that. Why did he have to get stuck with Stenmin anyway? But oh well; it didn't matter. It wasn't like anything would change. Not for the better, anyway.

Trudging out of the apartment, Halt swiftly navigated the way to Crowley's chambers, and soon found himself knocking very quietly on the door, trying to look as if he was perfectly fine, and not as if he had just received a beating half an hour ago.

Crowley opened the door immediately, and Halt saw very quickly that Pauline was there as well, almost smiling. Halt, for some strange reason, felt very left out, but went inside the apartment anyway, glancing around briefly at the familiar surroundings.

"Well, what are we going to do?" Crowley asked brightly, happy that Halt was now here. Pauline's mentor was gone for the night, and she was always lonely when alone, so Crowley had invited her over as well. She was a good friend of his, and perhaps something more.

Halt raised an eyebrow, something he did a lot. "Do?" he said. "What is there to do besides do what we always do?"

Crowley grinned; he and Halt always played pranks on Crowley's mentor, since Halt had firmly refused to let them do the same on Stenmin, whom Crowley had always wanted to pull a good prank on.

"Sounds good," he said. "Balinor isn't here right now, so we have plenty of time to set it all up. Want to join us, Pauline? We're pulling pranks on my mentor. He thinks it's funny, so don't worry about being in trouble."

Pauline shrugged slightly. "Of course," she said. Crowley went to get the supplies, and Pauline turned to Halt, whose shyness crept back. "So, you're a Ranger's apprentice?" she asked curiously.

Halt nodded, and mumbled something. Pauline looked a bit confused, and Halt spoke up a bit. "Yes. You're a Diplomat, aren't you? Apprenticed to Lady Jasmine?"

"Yes," Pauline said with a smile that didn't seem quite real to Halt. "I am." She looked more closely at him. "You know, you're a bit small for your age, aren't you?"

Halt began to scowl, and she said quickly, "Not that it's a bad thing, being small. Smaller people are always funny and smart and..." Crowley had come back, and was gazing curiously at the two, but then shrugged, holding out the pranking items with a grin.

"All right," he said with a small laugh. "Pauline, you prank up the washroom; Halt, you go to Balinor's chambers; I'll get the living room. Let's get to work! Balinor will be back in an hour, which will give us plenty of time." They all split up, arms full of prankster's items, and came back in close to an hour with grins. Even Halt was smiling faintly.

It was ten minutes later when Balinor came back to the apartment, and he smiled at the three before moving to the couch, which gave a wet-sounding fart as he sat directly on an air-filled cushion. Crowley gave a muffled snort that nearly passed as a sneeze, and Halt concealed a grin behind his hand. Pauline was looking a bit mischievous.

Balinor moved from room to room, coming across fake animal dung, disappearing ink in his small ink bottle, tripping strings, and air-filled cushions throughout the apartment. Crowley was on the floor, laughing, Pauline was grinning, and Halt was trying not to laugh.

After a moment, Crowley's beloved mentor came back into the room, feigning a stern look at the three who were lying on their backs, looking brightly up at him, and said in a mock-severe voice, "How did all these pranks get in my apartment?"

"Maybe magical elves came!" Crowley suggested innocently, as if he had done nothing wrong at all.

"Or maybe the baron decided you need to lighten up a bit?" Halt said, equally innocent.

"Or perhaps the food came to life and decided not to borrow your fake eye, so they instead pranked up the apartment?" Pauline added, and Crowley had a snot-explosion/sneeze/snort/laugh attack as he doubled up on the floor. Balinor grinned.

"Perhaps they did!" he said in his goodhearted fashion. "I say, we have magical food in here! We'd better be careful or they'll eat us in our sleep tonight. But before they can do that, why don't we cook them up and eat them instead? I don't know about you three, but I'm hungry."

They had 'magical' potatoes, beef, and green beans that night, and Halt, once again, wished fiercely that Balinor was his own mentor. Stenmin was cruel, neglecting, and abusive; Balinor was kind, joking, and had natural urges to feed things, no matter what they were. Balinor would have made a great Shepard, Halt mused.

They sat and talked after dinner, and after a while Balinor went to bed, telling the other three that they should do so after a little bit as well. The three got ready for bed, tired after a long day, and, in Halt's case, after two beatings. Rolling up in their blankets on the floor of their little camp they had made, Crowley was soon asleep, and Halt and Pauline were awake.

"What is Stenmin like, Halt?" she asked sleepily, turning over on her side to face him. Halt met her eyes, and rolled over onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. He didn't answer. "When he came home, you looked so scared. Why is that?"

"I'm afraid of needles," Halt lied. "That's all."

"You weren't looking afraid when we started to stitch up your hand. You didn't even seem to feel the pain. How is that cut, anyway?"

"It's all right," Halt replied, glad that the conversation had turned away from his mentor. He cursed silently as Pauline continued to talk about him, though.

"He doesn't hurt you, does he?" Pauline asked in a serious, but very soft voice. Halt replied far too quickly, with a sharp little,

"No."

"He does, doesn't he?" Pauline whispered, gazing at him. Halt clenched his teeth. "It's all right if he does; I won't tell. My mentor, Lady Jasmine, purposely forgets to feed me all the time. She really hates me for some reason."

"She and Stenmin should get married," Halt blurted out without thinking. Pauline gave a small laugh, and agreed with him quietly. "I just don't know why he likes to hit me so much," Halt said in a miserable voice. "It's not like I've done anything wrong. He just hates me for some odd reason. Why is that, do you think?"

Now he had gone and told, by her gentle persisting, though in his opinion it had been forced out of him. Damn it!

"I don't know," Pauline replied thoughtfully. "You're funny and nice, like Crowley, and sweet. There's no reason for him to hate you, just like there's no reason for my mentor to hate me. We just got unlucky, got stuck with them. Crowley got very lucky; he could have been the one to get Stenmin. Would you want that?"

"Of course not!" Halt said immediately, and a bit too loudly. Crowley rolled over, awake now, blinking sleepily and gazing at him as he yawned.

"Why are you too still up?" he asked drowsily, lying back down again. "It's late. What were you talking about?"

"Nothing," Halt and Pauline said together, and the matter was over.

**Did you like it? XD! I hope so. It was a bit long, but I was pretty happy with it when finished. So yeah lol. R&R XD! I luvvers you all (in a friend way O.o)**

**Velvet out!**


	3. Chapter 3: Caught

**All right. XD! So this one is a bit short, I know...sorry about that. I was planning on making it longer but I have to go out to eat lol. So, even though this is a short, fluffy little chapter, please enjoy it!**

Chapter Three: Caught

Days later, Halt found himself too busy to even talk to the other two, let alone do anything he wanted to do. He had mastered all of his skills, he would gain the Silver Oakleaf in less than two months, but still he had to train, as Stenmin put it. All Stenmin wanted was for Halt to stay out of his way so he could do whatever he wanted.

Aiming his longbow, Halt narrowed his eyes slightly as he carefully pulled back on the string until it was taut, and his eyes darted over to the nocked arrow, and then back to his target: a large tree. Bored, he had shot nearly everything he saw, and this was his last arrow of the twelve that were usually in his quiver.

He was ready to release when a girl's voice tore through his concentration, and immediately he ducked down into the brush, alert. It was Pauline's voice. He heard Crowley as well, and grew very curious. They were having an argument, it seemed, though he couldn't make out the words, only that he heard his name more than once.

The two stormed over to where Halt's tree was, and continued to argue, lost to the rest of the world. "It's not like this is a one-time opportunity," Crowley cried. "_I_ wanted to take you to the dance. Halt doesn't go to dances, anyway."

What was this? Halt crept closer, so he could listen better. "Exactly, Crowley," Pauline said quite calmly. "I've gone with you to dances many times before. Halt never leaves home, or Stenmin doesn't ever let him go. Why don't I take him this time? I'll go with you next time, if you want." Crowley began to say something, but Pauline cut him off. "Halt is never happy, Crowley, or haven't you noticed? He needs to have a bit of fun every once and a while. I've gone to the last two dances with you. Has Halt ever gone to a dance before?"

"No," Crowley muttered. "Halt can't even dance, Pauline. I can."

Dancing? Halt hated to dance. He was horrible at it, too; Crowley wasn't lying about that. But Halt had never seen Crowley dance before, nor had he known about Crowley's going to dances. He'd never heard about them. What was Pauline talking about? Did she expect him to ask her to a dance or something? He shuddered; he would never be able to work up the nerve, much less convince Stenmin to let him go.

Just then Crowley decided to notice Halt's black-fletching arrows, and glance around, saying in a soft voice, "Shh. Halt is listening."

Pauline looked startled. "He is?"

"Yes. He is. Damn it, Halt, come out here where we can see you! I know you're there, and it won't do to run from me, you know." Crowley watched as Halt slowly stood up, glaring at his friend. "You were listening." It wasn't exactly a question, and Halt nodded wordlessly. "Great. Well, Halt, do you know how to dance?"

( ) ( )

( o.O)

( u u )

"I have to _what_?" Halt demanded, horrified. "I can't dance, Crowley! You know that! Why do I have to go?"

"I have no idea," Crowley snapped, looking frustrated. "When I asked Pauline if she would go to the dance with me, she said no and that she wanted to go with you instead. I think she likes you, Halt. No offense, but I don't see why; you're grumpy, grim, you never smile, and you seem to hate everybody. And you're shorter than her. And you can't even dance."

"Thanks," Halt said sarcastically. "Crowley, my friend, you make me feel wonderful about myself. But I don't _have_ to ask her, do I? I really, really, really don't want to; I'll die from embarrassment, and I don't even like to be around people very much. They'll stare at me; it's not like Stenmin has made my abilities a secret or anything. I'm a freak."

"Of course you're not."

"Yes, Crowley, I am. You're my only friend, I never talk, I'm brilliant with my bow and knives, I'm short, I've never had a girlfriend, and I'm not exactly handsome."

"Don't say that, Halt. You're not ugly at all. Stenmin only says that, but don't listen to him. Pauline doesn't think so, anyway," he said with a sly wink. Halt whacked him on the arm, and Crowley laughed.

"Stay on topic, please." Halt glared at him, and Crowley smiled. "Anyway, I don't really belong anywhere except back home in Hibernia. I wonder how Caitlyn is?" he added curiously. Crowley knew who Caitlyn was, and how much the young girl meant to Halt. He also knew about Ferris, whom Halt refused to speak about. "What do you think would happen if I went home, Crowley?"

"Ferris would kill you."

"Exactly. So I don't even belong there, I suppose." He sighed. "This is great. I wanted to get away from Dun Kilty, and all I succeeded in doing was getting stuck with Stenmin. God damn it, Crowley, I just want to belong!" he cried out.

With a sigh, Crowley pulled his best friend into a comforting but rough, man-like embrace. "I know, Halt. Us Rangers just don't belong, you know? Just don't worry about it. Everything will be all right, and you'll go home soon, I bet. And guess what?" he added with a small laugh.

"What." Halt's flat little reply was muffled.

"I bet, after you return to Hibernia with all those weapons and amazing skills, Ferris will never try to hurt you again, much less talk to you." Crowley smiled when he felt Halt grin against his chest, and then his best friend pulled away, all at once wondering when he would be able to go back to Hibernia. It was, perhaps, time to visit Ferris once more.

**Sorry it was so short. Was it fluffy enough for you? XD! ^?^ lol. Well? What are you waiting for? This story isn't done yet, but you really should R&R, you know.**

**Skadoo(:**


	4. Chapter 4: Freedom

**All right. Well, here we are again. How is it that I always get bored with writing my other fanfic, Shifting the Lies, but when writing this I go insane all over the poor keyboard? Wait, no...that sounded wrong. Just...never mind...go ahead and read now. O.o**

Chapter Four: Freedom

Ten more days until the dance.

Halt was growing more nervous, spending more and more time training and hiding from both Crowley and Pauline, as well as Stenmin. But that was nothing new; he always tried to avoid Stenmin. He knew that he really needed to ask Pauline to the dance soon, but kept finding ways to put it off, such as: he needed a bath, he was too tired, he needed to get some food first, he needed to train very badly, he needed a new tunic, he needed to remind Crowley about something, or he really needed to go and run some errands for the baron.

Nine more days until the dance.

Halt was still putting off asking Pauline, telling himself that the answer would be no, even though he knew perfectly well that it would be a yes. He received a random beating from Stenmin that day, and also ran some more errands for the baron of Redmont, still avoiding his two friends. Yes, he considered Pauline his friend now, even though he wasn't sure how she felt about him. It was all very confusing to him; why couldn't people just be friends and leave it at that? Why did everybody have to complicate things with the matter of 'boyfriends' and 'girlfriends' among other things such as adultery and kissing? Wasn't having friends enough?

Eight more days until the dance.

Crowley caught up with him that day, and the two talked for a while. Halt was a bit glad that Crowley had forced Halt to stop avoiding him; Halt was growing lonely. That night he slept over at Crowley's apartment, and thankfully Pauline wasn't there that time. Things were very quiet, though, and they didn't pull pranks on Balinor, who seemed deeply concerned about the two of them; they were both silent part of the time, they didn't eat much, and went straight to bed afterward. Halt left early in the morning, far before Balinor had awoken.

Seven more days until the dance.

Everybody knew about the dance now, and everybody except Halt, Crowley, and Pauline had a person to go with. Very suddenly, everyone around Redmont seemed to know about the rumored relationship between Pauline and Halt, and Crowley was getting a bit sullen about the whole thing, keeping an eye on Halt at all times. Halt was still avoiding Pauline, but wondered if Crowley thought they were still secretly visiting each other. Was Crowley jealous of him? If he was, Halt had no idea what Crowley had to be jealous of.

Six more days until the dance.

Halt hated time. Whenever you wanted a day to hurry up, the time seemed to drag on, or even go backward, but when you were dreading something, time just seemed to fly by, as if everything was in fast-motion somehow. And time was _really_ flying, for him. He had been cornered that day by boys and girls his age, and they demanded to know as much as possible about Halt's rumored relationship with Pauline. They had walked away wanting revenge; Halt had nothing to tell. Stenmin beat him that night, and left him unconscious on the floor until morning came.

Five more days until the dance.

Halt was quite seriously considering whether or not to run away. Why not? It would get him away from the increasingly jealous Crowley, the persistent Pauline, and the abusive Stenmin. But still, even when he had packed a small rucksack to leave, he felt a special need to stay here. Perhaps it was just stupidity. He knew it was. It just had to be.

Four more days until the dance.

This was so dumb. He needed to just ask her and get it over with. It wasn't as if he would get no for an answer; he would most definitely get a yes. Pauline cornered him that day, and they talked for a while before Halt stammered out an excuse to get away from her, and dashed off before she could ask why washing his hair was so important to him. Crowley tried to make him—force him—to ask Pauline, but he refused, admitting that he was too much of a coward to do something like that. When Crowley offered to ask her for him, Halt had refused that as well. He needed to ask her himself. If he ever did, anyway.

Three more days until the dance.

Halt was growing desperate. He needed to ask Pauline, but all of a sudden he couldn't seem to find her. It was like _she_ was avoiding him now, and he didn't like it at all. It made him feel a bit hurt and lonely. Stenmin began to beat him again, leaving him with a bloody nose and slightly chipped teeth. Halt couldn't sleep that night, wondering where he would be able to find Pauline, and if Crowley knew where to find her. He probably did, and fell asleep thinking this, and for once he felt content in the knowledge.

Two more days until the dance.

He was positive Crowley was avoiding him as well. Ugh! He needed to ask Pauline to the dance _now_. She would have to go with Crowley if he didn't, and he wanted to at least see what a dance was like. Nobody else would ever ask him, he knew. That night Crowley came to his door to tell him that he had gotten a date for the dance, but wouldn't say who, and started to tease Halt about not asking Pauline yet. Halt tried to get him to tell where Pauline was, but every time he did ask Crowley would get slightly evasive and cryptic. "Why are you talking like a fortune cookie?" Halt demanded before Crowley left. He received no answer, and Halt didn't sleep that night, not at all.

One more day until the dance.

Halt was fed up with how Pauline and Crowley were avoiding him, and sought them both out. When he finally found Crowley somewhere near noon, he drew out his saxe knife, tackled his best friend to the ground, and demanded answers, much to the delight of the cheering onlookers. Everybody loves it when a tiny person beats up a tall person and threatens him with a messy death. Crowley gulped and began to talk. First of all, Pauline was sick in bed, and had been waiting for Halt to visit her for days now, and Crowley was actually going to the dance with a girl named Holly, one of his old friends. Halt gained quite the reputation that day.

After he was done 'talking' to Crowley, he went off the Pauline's apartment, where he was greeted by her overly sweet mentor. Lady Jasmine didn't fool him for a second when she said that Pauline wasn't here, and was actually out with her friend Crowley; Halt told her he had just come from Crowley's house, and she hadn't been there. Lady Jasmine sneered at him and told him to get lost, but he forced his way inside, not caring about her threats to go and get the Redmont guards.

"You and Stenmin _would_ make a good couple," Halt spat at her before going into Pauline's room, nearly kicking down the door before he forced Lady Jasmine to unlock it, threatening to slit her throat with his saxe knife. She had most certainly locked Pauline in the room.

Pauline threw herself in his arms as soon as he had yanked the door open, and he would have fallen if he hadn't gripped the side of the wall immediately. Pauline was crying and telling him that her mentor had locked her in the room to try and kill her, but when Halt whirled around to face Lady Jasmine he found her gone. Guards came a few minutes later, asking no questions but instead dragging Halt out of the apartment while he shouted out to Pauline,

"Will you go to the dance with me?"

With a smile as she stood in the doorway of the apartment, Pauline cried out the answer he had been hoping for: "Yes!" Halt was dragged all the way to the baron's office, and then left there to face the baron of Redmont. Stenmin was there, as well as Lady Jasmine.

Halt liked the Baron Elrond. He was fair, kind, and a rather joking fellow, and always listened to every side of the story. But on this occasion, he was looking decidedly grim, much like Halt always was, up until this moment; right now, Halt just couldn't stop grinning. He stopped grinning when Baron Elrond said something he had dreaded hearing from when he had first come to Araluen.

"Are you Prince Halt? We have much evidence of this."

"S-sir?"

"Are you Prince Halt, young man?"

"Well, y-yes but—"

"Why did you run away from home?" Stenmin demanded, all of a sudden looking concerned. For once, Halt knew the concern was for real. But not for him; Stenmin was upset because he had been beating a crown Prince.

"Because Ferris was trying to kill me!" Halt burst out finally. "He's always hated me, because I was going to be King of Clonmel and not him, and so he tried to drown me. I got sick of it, and ran away because I knew he would either kill me or I would kill him. I didn't want to kill my twin brother, no matter how evil or twisted he was, so I ran. It was all I could go. Wouldn't you do the same?" he screamed at them.

Baron Elrond tried to calm him down; Halt was stamping his feet, yelling at them for no apparent reason, trying to explain to them why he'd had to leave, why he was so ashamed of the fact, why he'd left Caitlyn there all by herself, with Ferris. Caitlyn was most likely dead now, and it was all his fault. Finally one of the guards went to get Pauline when Lady Jasmine suggested it, and Stenmin offered to grab Crowley from wherever he was at the time—most likely with a girl somewhere. Crowley was always with a girl.

Pauline and Crowley dashed into the room in less than five minutes, took one look at the still-shouting, furious Halt, and then held him down while he struggled, still trying to explain. After a moment his struggling ceased, and finally he gave a deep sigh and was still, silent now as he merely gazed up at the ceiling. Baron Elrond was looking a bit shaken. But, like a good baron, he continued on as if there had been no disruption.

"I don't want to go home," Halt replied hoarsely when Baron Elrond told him that he would have to go back to Hibernia.

"Your Highness," Elrond said calmly, "they've been out searching for you for a very long time; even Ferris has sent out search parties. Your brother can't be King, since he wasn't the first born."

"I won't go back to Dun Kilty!" Halt cried, sitting up again. Pauline was looking stunned; she had no idea that Halt was a Prince. "You can send me back, but I'll just run away again, this time with Caitlyn. And then I'll go somewhere else, where you can't send me back again."

"Where on earth would you go?" Elrond asked the boy gently. "You can't come back here; we'd only send you back to Hibernia. The Skandians won't take you, and Gallica isn't the most wonderful place in the world. Your Highness, you have nowhere else to go."

"I'm staying here," Halt said stiffly. "I'm a Prince; you can't tell me no. I'll someday be King if I go back, and you have to do as I say."

"You're a Prince of Hibernia," Stenmin reminded him bluntly. "You're in Araluen. Here, you do what we tell you to do. And what you're going to do is go back to Hibernia where you're suppose to be. If you don't do as we say, I'll send you back dead. Do you understand me?"

"Stenmin!" Elrond said sharply. "You will do no such thing!"

"Oh, hasn't he told you?" Pauline said sarcastically. Halt shot her a pleading glance, but she went on. "Stenmin just _adores_ beating up Halt, doesn't he? And _my_ mentor locked me in my bedroom three days ago. She's never loved to feed me, and has tried to poison me once. If Halt hadn't come to see me and threatened to kill Jasmine if she didn't unlock the door, I would be dead in a few hours."

"What is this?"

"It's true," Crowley piped up. "Halt always has these weird bruises and cuts, and Stenmin terrifies him. Two weeks ago, when Halt got cut on his knife, he went back home to change his tunic since it was bloody and torn, and a few minutes later I came with Pauline to check on him. When we opened the door he had a bloody nose and broken tooth as well. Stenmin had been beating him up. That night I had Pauline and Halt over to sleep over at my chambers, and when they thought I was asleep they talked about Stenmin and Jasmine. Pauline got Halt to admit how Stenmin abused him all the time, and Pauline told Halt how Jasmine hated her and neglected her often."

"You were awake?" Pauline exclaimed. "But you were—you were asleep!"

"No, actually I wasn't," Crowley replied. He continued. "Anyway, Halt is always beaten up all over the place, and Pauline has been locked in her bedroom for days now."

Elrond nodded slowly. "I've heard rumors," he said. "People hear crashes, screaming, and people crying in the apartment Halt shares with Stenmin, and Pauline has been locked in a room before, two years ago."

"You believe us?" Halt said incredulously. "I thought you wouldn't, and I would be back with Stenmin still..."

"Of course I believe you," Elrond said with an understanding smile. "Now, why don't you go down to the kitchens, and get something to eat, all of you? Stenmin and Jasmine, stay here. I want to talk to you, and it will be a very interesting conversation."

As Halt and Pauline walked out with Crowley, Stenmin gripped Halt's arm and hissed, "I'm not done with you, you little bastard. God damn it, I'll find you, and you'll pay for it."

Halt merely wrenched his arm from Stenmin's grip and spat, "I'm looking forward to it."

Pauline and Crowley smiled at him, and the three left the room. As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, Halt embraced his two best friends and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

They were free.

**Ahweee! Flufferiness! Well, don't think this fanfic is done XD! Cause it's not. There's still more, and Halt has to take a certain someone to the dance.**

** Poor Halt. I almost feel sorry for him XD!**

** So what do you do now? R&R of course!**

**Velvet out!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Dance

**All right. I just love myself for writing this. Well, now is the day of the dance...which turns out horribly. Just read and you'll see why(:**

Chapter Five: The Dance

"I can't believe this," Halt said, shaking his head. "I can't learn how to dance in an hour! That's literally impossible, Crowley."

Crowley shrugged. "Well, there _is_ one way we could teach you...,"

"What, pray tell, might that be?" Halt was desperate for a solution, any solution. Crowley began to grin. Halt was to stay at his house with Pauline until they either had new mentors, or they were graduated from being apprentices. Pauline wasn't here at the moment; she was down at the small town, as she had some shopping to do.

"I could teach you. It might be a bit awkward, since we'll be...um...dancing together, but..."

"I'll just learn at the dance."

"I thought you might be that way." Crowley made a face and said in falsetto, "Aww! And I was looking forward to dancing with you, Halty!"

Halt whacked him on the arm. "Oh, shut up!" He paused, and raised an eyebrow. "Halty?"

"Um...yes. Halty. There was nothing else that I could think of." Crowley grinned. "Do you like that name, Halty dear? I'm sure Pauline would be fine with calling you that, if you'd like. I could run down to the town and ask her. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room, and Halt darted after him, cursing Crowley's longer legs.

"Crowley!" he hollered, racing to catch up. "Don't you dare! Get _back_ here, Crowley!"

Crowley gave a loud laugh in reply, and only sped up as Halt sprinted after him desperately. "You'll have to run faster than that, Halty dear!" he shouted out over his shoulder, grinning at his small friend. "Come on, Halty; at least _try_ to catch up to me! Don't you know how to run?" He laughed again as Halt glared. "Halt, you run like a gir—"

His sentence was never finished, for he ran directly into a door and fell, sprawling, to the floor, and Halt leaped on top of him, pinning him down with a fierce expression on his face. For a moment Crowley met his eyes, those dark eyes that never wavered, and shuddered briefly, knowing that, if Halt had to, he would be able to kill anybody without mercy or any other thoughts. His small friend was dangerous.

"A-all right, Halt," Crowley stammered. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really going to tell her, you know. It was all just a joke..."

"Was it, now?"

"Yes. Just a joke." He gazed up at his friend, and smiled crookedly, and also a bit apologetically. "Sorry. Will you let me up now, Halt? We have to get ready for the dance." But Halt shook his head calmly, and a glimmer of amusement shone in those dark, mysterious eyes.

"No, I don't think so. Not until I'm bored. And at the moment, I am most certainly not bored at all." Crowley could have sworn a smile passed across Halt's face before disappearing more quickly than it had come. "How sorry are you, Crowley, my friend?"

Crowley gulped. "Very sorry, Halt."

"How much is very?"

"A lot. Very is a lot. Extremely sorry, Halt. Can I get up now? Your knees are a bit boney, and they're digging into my ribs. Your ass isn't that comfortable either." He let out a rather painful sounding breath. "How much do you weigh, Halt? You aren't really that big, are you? Or have you been hiding a potbelly from us all?"

Halt scowled at him; he didn't weigh all that much, did he? "How much is extremely, Crowley?"

"Halt, just stop. Please!"

"Thank you for being polite. I always appreciate respect. Can you define extremely, Crow—" The rest of his sentence was lost as a hand came down upon the scruff of his neck and lifted him two feet into the air. Halt turned his head to find Balinor gazing curiously at him, looking bewildered at the murderous position Halt had pinned Crowley into, and why Halt seemed so amused; Halt, the grim Hibernian boy, was _never_ amused.

"What on earth are you two doing?" Balinor inquired, baffled.

"Oh, thank God, Balinor!" Crowley cried, getting to his feet. "Halt was ready to kill me or sit on me to death! All I was trying to do was get him to cave in and accept my offer to teach him how to dance. He has no idea how to do anything right."

"Anything?"

"In dancing terms," Crowley said quickly, seeing the raised eyebrow on Halt's face.

"Well, in that case...," Balinor trailed off dubiously. He turned to Halt, who was back on his feet. "Why don't you let him teach you how to dance, Halt? It's really not all that hard. Much like training to be a Ranger; you need to have good coordination, good steering direction, well balance, and a brilliant sense of knowledge of when to run. It's quite simple, really."

Halt looked almost anxious. "What do you mean, a good sense of knowledge of when to run from the room? I won't need to run away, will I? _Will I?_"

"Not a good sense of knowledge, Halt; a _brillant_ one. You probably won't need to run like I always did, though," Balinor added thoughtfully. He grinned. "I was always knocking things over and stepping on feet. Adding to the fact that Rangers aren't very welcome anywhere, people weren't particularly happy with me."

"Are you a good dancer now?" Halt asked curiously. He wouldn't mind being taught by Balinor, who never made fun of anybody like Crowley did.

"Of course I'm not. Once a bad dancer, always a bad dancer. Unless you decide to actually learn how before it's too late, of course. I tried learning; nothing good came out of it for me but a couple of stepped-on feet, some frowns in my direction, and me running from the room immediately. You'll probably be able to learn, though; you're still young and catch onto things easily." He suddenly paused. "Oh, look at the time! Ten minutes until the dance, boys."

"Ten minutes?" Crowley cried, glaring at Halt. "You idiot, we were suppose to be getting ready to go. This is great." He sighed, and turned to leave. "Thanks, Balinor," he threw over his shoulder as he and Halt took off down the hallway.

Pauline lied down on Myda's bed, stretching out while talking to her friend.

"I still can't believe that Halt actually talks," Myda said, sighing as she shifted through dresses. She still couldn't decide what to wear. "Nobody has ever heard Halt speak more than a few words, except Crowley, and all of a sudden the two of you talk for hours on end, so much that you never have time for me anymore."

Pauline smiled at her fondly. "Of course I still have time for you. And anyway, Myda, he's spoken much more than that to many people, I'm sure. He talks all the time."

"He's extremely shy, Pauline; you know that. I ran into him one time and he just said something I couldn't even hear and then practically disappeared. Rangers are magical. Are you sure he's not a black magician like all the rest of them, Pauline?"

"A black magician? Crowley and Halt?" Pauline laughed. "Never! Crowley is very silly, and so is Halt most of the time. I know, it's hard to believe, but he's even smiled at me before. Once."

"Exactly. Once." Myda sighed. "But other than that, Pauline, he's really cute and seems nice. So I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun, you know."

Pauline nodded, and then suddenly gasped. "I'm going to be late!" she cried, leaping off of the bed and giving her friend a quick hug. "I'll see you at the dance. Good bye!" And with that she dashed out of the room, getting there moments before Halt and Crowley did.

Halt and Crowley reached the apartment in record time, and burst into the room to find Pauline, gazing at the two boys who were gasping, hands on their knees as they bent over, trying to catch their breath.

"Your very first dance and you two are out running around," Pauline said, somewhat incredulously. "I thought you were in here getting ready?" She sighed. "You know, the only lasts until midnight. It's eight right now. Halt, you look dirty. Wash your hair. Crowley, wash your face and change clothes. Then Halt will change clothes. You can't look dirty; you don't need a suit, but you can't be all filthy. Go wash up, boys."

Halt and Crowley obliged. Fifteen minutes later they were completely ready, and with a quiet curse Crowley took off to find his date, who no doubt was waiting for him. Halt and Pauline were silent, staring at each other in an uncomfortable silence. Halt was wearing a green tunic and brown leggings as usual, as well as his dark leather boots and Ranger cloak. Pauline was wearing the usual Diplomat white gown, with her hair down.

For a few minutes they just stood there, not exactly knowing what to do. "So...where's the place where the dance is held?" Halt said finally, in a slight mumble. Pauline gazed at him for a moment.

"You _do _know how to dance, right?" she asked. Halt didn't answer, and she took the silence as a no. Pauline sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have to teach you when we get there. The dance began at least ten minutes ago, and Crowley will be waiting for us. None of us really dance, you know," she added. "Most of us just stand around and talk, as well as eat."

"They have food there?"

"Of course, silly! So are you ready to go? I'm sure everyone is waiting for us so that they can spread rumors and gossip about our relationship. Let's go entertain them, shall we?"

"Do we have to?" Halt regretted the words immediately; Pauline scowled at him.

"You were the one who asked me to the dance in the first place, Halt. Now let's _go_. I'm getting really bored just standing here." She grabbed his hand before he could refuse and dragged him out the door, ignoring his groans. "Hurry up, Halt. We're wasting time. We're late as it is, and now everybody will be staring at us when we come in. Nobody is ever late for one of the dances."

They were at the great hall, the place where the dance was being held. "Can we sneak in?" Halt asked desperately. "I don't like being stared at. It...it makes me feel nervous. Back in Hibernia I was stared at all the time—that's not very unnatural, because I was the crown Prince—and I always hated it. Please don't do this to me."

Pauline looked thoughtful, and then smiled. "I know a different way in," she said, "and nobody will even notice. How does that sound?"

"It sounds perfect," Halt said gratefully.

His date smiled. "Good. Follow me," she said, leading the way back down the hall, the way they had just come from. However, 'nobody' didn't involve Crowley.

"I can't believe this," Crowley said incredulously. "Did they chicken out or something? They should be here by now. Where are they?"

"Calm down," his date, Holly, said soothingly. "They're probably around here somewhere, wouldn't you think? Pauline loves dances; she wouldn't blow one off for anything."

"How do you know?"

"Please, Crowley, give me some credit. She's only one of my best friends, you know. But I have no idea where she is, true. Pauline said she would meet me by the door; maybe she and Halt are there. I want to hear Halt's rumored Hibernian voice, anyway. Is it really as adorable as they say?"

"Holly, I'm a boy, and his best friend. I shouldn't answer something like that, you know. Anyway, let's go find Halt and Pauline. They're probably somewhere in a corner trying not to be seen by anybody. Halt is really shy." Crowley led his dance partner to the door, where they stopped. "Not here."

"Maybe they're late," Holly suggested, looking longingly toward the dance floor.

"Go ahead," Crowley said with a grin, seeing her expression. "I'll go looking for them. You enjoy yourself, Holly. I'll be back soon; I think I might know where they are."

"Crowley, wait!" Holly called out, but Crowley was already gone.

"Are you sure this isn't dangerous, Pauline?" Halt asked her as he hauled himself up to the tower rooftop. He reached down and pulled Pauline up easily, accidentally falling backward as he did so, ending up with his dance date in his lap.

He looked away quickly as Pauline got up, blushing slightly, and went to the side of the tower, gripping the side of the archer's ledge to steady herself so she wouldn't fall. Halt joined her, a few feet away, and they gazed down at the ground, so far down.

When Halt noticed Pauline shivering in the chill night air high up in the clouds, the slid off his cloak and handed it to her wordlessly, but she shook her head. "No, thank you," she said somewhat loftily. "I'm all right without it."

"Take it," Halt insisted firmly. Pauline sighed and did as he said, pulling it around her shoulders for warmth; she was surprised to find that it was actually slightly large for Halt, just her size. Gratefully she smiled at him, and was glad to see that the corners of Halt's mouth lifted very slightly.

A month ago, Pauline wouldn't have expected to even see Halt looking at her, much less almost smiling and asking her to a dance, although they hadn't even gone into the dance hall with the others. As much as she denied it, before she had met Halt, Pauline had also thought he couldn't talk, or at least was too stuck-up to say anything to others. He always had a lonely, dark look in those keen, sharp eyes of his, and held himself away from others. Halt was dangerous, she knew, but still she couldn't help admiring him.

Pauline was leaning too far over the edge; she abruptly felt herself falling, and her arms flailed wildly as she frantically tried to grab the edge of the archer's ledge. Halt saw this and darted forward, grasping her hands and pulling her back over the edge with all his might. He felt himself slipping as well, and struggled to retain his grip on her clammy hands; with an all-mighty tug he pulled her back over, and they both fell to the ground, breathing hard, and Halt's eyes were a bit wide.

Pauline's own eyes were closed, her face was deathly pale, and she still clung to Halt as if for dear life. A mere month ago, she hadn't expected Halt to be saving her from a sure death of a fall over a tower rooftop, her grim, unlikely hero with a bruised, lonely past.

Halt's cloak had fallen over the edge when Pauline had slipped, but he didn't care. It could have been Pauline that had fallen over the edge, leaving him with an empty Ranger's cloak. He waited patiently until Pauline opened her eyes, waited until she was certain that she was safe, lying on the floor of the tower, still in Halt's strong arms.

Finally her eyes opened, and she gazed up at him, still looking very frightened, her heartbeat like that of a dying bird's; slow, but panicked at the same time, and steady. Then she took a deep breath and sat up slightly. Halt felt his heart rate increase. Should he kiss her? Or not?

Whatever his choice was, he never got to act on the decision, for as soon as he leaned down slightly there came a voice from behind. "There you are, Halt! Wha—what are you two doing?" Crowley demanded, stunned.

Halt spun around, and Pauline sat up immediately. Crowley's eyes were wide, he was staring at them incredulously, an as Halt noticed with a moment of pure hatred and anger, a glimmer of jealousy shone in his friend's eyes. Then the moment of terrible feelings toward his best friend were gone, and Halt said in a flat voice, "Nothing, Crowley. Just talking."

"Just talking?" Crowley's words were laced with sarcasm. "Of course. She was lying in your arms, you're both here on the floor, and you were getting ready to kiss her. Just talking; of course you were."

Pauline blinked in surprise at Halt, who met her gaze evenly, and then she said, "I just about fell off the tower. Halt caught me and we fell over. That's all, Crowley. No need to get jealous."

"Jealous?" The volume of Crowley's voice jumped a few notches. "I'm not jealous! Not at all, Pauline. Actually, Holly and I are dating now." It was true; he had asked her a few minutes before they had begun thinking about Halt and Pauline, and why the two hadn't shown up. Now he knew the reason why.

"You are?" Halt said, with mild interest. "Last time you both dated, it went horribly wrong. Are you going to try it again now?"

Crowley shot him a nasty look, and Halt returned it with contempt. "Last time it was a matter of consequence. This time will go much better than it had before. I know it will, in fact."

"Nobody can predict the future." Both of them were standing now, facing each other with open hate. Crowley had never known Halt could be so hostile. "Now say you're sorry for spying on us and go, Crowley. I was talking with Pauline."

"Talking? Really? I hadn't known you could actually talk! Most of us were under the impression that you were too much of a stuck-up prat to even bring yourself down to our level and ask for help from an abusive mentor. Seriously, Halt, it can't be hard to admit to something like that. I had to go and help the little Ranger boy, didn't I?"

"Shut up, Crowley." Halt's voice was dangerously low and quiet, but Crowley ignored the warning and went on.

"Little Ranger boy can never do anything for himself! He has to have help with everything, even talking and dancing, as well as asking a girl to a simple dance!" Crowley stumbled back, stunned, as Halt acted on impulse and punched his best friend right in the face. Blood trickling down from his nose, Crowley put a hand to it, and when he brought it away and saw the crimson flow, blinked at Halt, astonished.

Halt had blood on his bruised knuckles. Gazing down at his hand, Halt met Crowley's eyes for a moment, felt Pauline's shocked gaze on the back of his head, and then ran from the tower room, never looking back.

**Well, even I was surprised with the ending...haha. There's gonna be more of Unlikely Hero...now you know where I got the name of it, in this chappie. If you review and tell me where, I'll dedicate the next chappie to you. Mkay? XD! Mkay. Lol.**

**Velvet out!**


	6. Chapter 6: An Apology Refused

**All right. Here we are again! This is ahwesomeness. Chapter six XD! Anyway, even though the chapter title says An Apology Refused, it might not mean what you think it does(: how about you read and find out? ^?^**

Chapter Six: An Apology Refused

Halt was sitting in the corner, in a dimly lit hallway, thinking things over and pondering what had happened that night. His head was in his hands, which were resting on his knees, and he wished fiercely for his Ranger cloak.

It had been wrong for him to ask Pauline to the dance.

He wanted to be invisible.

He'd hurt Crowley. He'd punched his best friend. Dear God, what had he done? He had to apologize; he wanted to very badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though he felt overbearing guilt of what he had done, he still thought what he had done was right. After all, Crowley had started it, hadn't he?"

Halt jumped at the sound of a voice, and then tried to make himself invisible in the shadows of the corner. Balinor walked by, followed by Pauline. The two of them, thankfully, didn't stop to see him, but Halt saw with a sinking feeling that Balinor's eyes met his for a moment, and that Pauline looked a bit angry.

"It wasn't his fault, Balinor," Pauline was saying. Halt wondered whom she was talking about; him, or Crowley? "He deserved it."

Probably Crowley. But who deserved what? It could mean either it wasn't Halt's fault (unlikely), and that Crowley deserved to be punched (well, he _had_); or it could mean it wasn't Crowley's fault that Halt was such an ass, and that Halt deserved to be told off by Crowley. He honestly wasn't sure, but was betting on it being his fault.

"What are you doing?" asked a voice from a few feet away. Halt froze, thinking it was somebody he knew, and then realized that it was a girl about his size, with flaming, coppery curls that cascaded to her shoulders in a rumpled, tousled fashion, much like Halt's own hair although his was perfectly straight, and huge green eyes. Her skin was a creamy golden color, and she was staring at him curiously. **(Let's just say she looks a bit like me, only my hair is only wavy, and my eyes are brown and gold.)**

Halt mumbled something even he didn't understand. The girl looked somewhat confused, and said in a puzzled voice, "Can't you talk?" Understanding suddenly dawned in those gigantic eyes, and she widened them. "Oh! You're that mute Ranger boy!"

"I'm not a mute," Halt objected in a low voice. "I can talk."

"Really?" Her eyes went even wider. "Everyone says you're a mute! This is amazing." She came a bit closer, and Halt found himself edging away nervously. "Why are you just sitting here? Don't you usually stand around with that other Ranger—Crow, or whatever his name is?"

"Crowley?"

"Aye! That's his name. I thought it was something like that. How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

Halt was scowling now. "Eighteen," he snapped. She blinked.

"Really?" She suddenly beamed. "Everyone thinks I'm twelve, but I'm really seventeen. That just goes to show that some people are just more tiny than others are, right?" Halt had to admit that she really did look about twelve years old.

"I suppose so," he said. This girl didn't seem half bad. Perhaps she could be a friend? But maybe not; he just wasn't sure. He never was good with people. He had too much of a short temper. Nobody ever liked to be his friend because of that and the fact that he was much too shy and wouldn't talk to anybody except Crowley, Balinor, and Pauline, as well as this girl now. And he didn't even know her name. So he asked her.

"I'm Myda," she said cheerfully. "One of Pauline's best friends. Where were you two at the dance? Pauline had said she would see me there. I didn't see her the entire time." She abruptly changed subjects. "Are you from Hibernia?"

"Ye-es," Halt said slowly, wary of her reaction. This girl was so unpredictable! Her moods swung back and forth like a pendulum, she couldn't seem to stay on one topic at a time, and she was very excitable. Halt wondered how Pauline had met the tiny girl who called herself Myda. She fascinated him.

"Amazing. Do you like being a Ranger?"

"Yes, I like being a—"

"Why did you come to Araluen?" She was asking questions before he could even finish answering the last one. **(This girl is like me XD! Hyper, tiny, with red hair. Don't you just love her? lol)**

"Personal reasons."

"Ooh, like what?" Her eyes were wide again.

"It's...ah...a secret," Halt said, and regretted that instantly.

"I'm great at keeping secrets! Wanna tell me? Please! I won't tell anyone else, Halt. Please!"

Halt sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "My brother didn't want me to inherit the farm," he said, although it wasn't altogether a lie. Ferris _hadn't_ wanted him to inherit something. "So he tried to kill me. He nearly succeeded in drowning me while we were fishing for our family one night, so I decided to leave. And here I am."

"You were a farmer? No wonder you're so strong; farmers usually are. Did you like being a farmer?"

"Um...not...really...?"

"Did you have cows?" she asked excitedly. "I just _love_ cows! They're so funny! Did you have pigs? How about horses?"

"N-no, not cows. We had horses. And crops. Nothing else," Halt said quickly, as he saw her taking a deep breath to ask another question.

"Oh." She was suddenly silent, and Halt had about two seconds of peace before— "Why don't you have that magic cloak on? Did you lose it? Did it rip? Did you forget it? Did you leave it at home?" She was talking so fast he could barely understand her.

"No...I lost it, that's a—"

"Why do you have blood on your hand?"

"I..." He remembered, abruptly, that he did. "I punched Crowley," he admitted in an ashamed mumble. Myda's eyes went wide once more, and he thought that she was about to give off a round of questions all over again, but suddenly she sat down next to him, not so hyper and jittery like before, but looking almost serious. Even her talking was a bit slower.

"What happened?" she asked softly. Halt definitely liked her better when she wasn't asking so many questions, and was ready to listen."

"Well, Crowley was jealous of me and Pauline, since we skipped the dance and went up to one of the towers to just sit and talk. I don't like being around crowds of people. Pauline nearly fell of the tower, and I grabbed her. I didn't mean to, but we fell over and I accidentally almost kissed her." The 'accidentally' part was _definitely_ a lie. "Crowley came up behind us as I was about to, and then got angry. He was being an ass—"

"Language," Myda said reprovingly, starting something that Halt would say when he was much older and Myda was long dead.

"Sorry. Well, he was being a jerk and so I also got angry and punched him. I'm sure Pauline hates me now; Crowley is one of her best friends. And...that's why I ran. I came here to sit in the dark, and then you came. I lost my cloak when I was saving Pauline. It fell over the edge. But it's fine; I have an extra. In...Crowley's apartment." He sighed.

"Don't worry," Myda said soothingly. "She doesn't hate you. I was over at Crowley's apartment a little while back; she was angry with Crowley. Not you. She was arguing with him," she said quietly. She looked a bit troubled. "I hope it doesn't ruin their friendship, you know. They've been friends since they were about six. Best friends."

In Halt's opinion, that just made everything a whole lot worse. Myda seemed to realize this, for she said quickly, "But they've been friends for so many years, I'll bet that they're going to make up really soon. Pauline has gotten angry at Crowley before; don't worry."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. They just have to calm down, and then Crowley goes off to find her and says he's sorry. Saying sorry always works with Crowley and Pauline; they always appreciate it, Halt. You should go try it," she added, speaking what was on Halt's mind.

To her astonishment, Halt grinned at her. He had a very nice grin. "I'll go try that," he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. He patted her on the shoulder and then stood up. "Thanks, Myda. I really just needed somebody to talk to." He took off down the hall, leaving Myda there with her huge, wide eyes and messy red hair that hung in curtains in her face, making the world rust-tinged to her.

"Well, that's never worked out before," she muttered to herself before standing up and walking back to where her Ranger friend waited, smiling approvingly at her. She had done well.

"Pauline?" Halt said softly, knocking on the door again. He knocked once more, a bit louder. "Pauline? Are you in there, Pauline?"

"What do you want, Crowley?" Pauline's voice came from inside. It was flat, and a bit angry sounding.

"It's not Crowley, Pauline. It's me. Halt." The door opened slightly. As soon as Pauline was sure it was really Halt, not Crowley, she flung the door open, looking a lot more cheerful now.

"Where have you been?" she asked him immediately. "You just ran out. Are you angry with me?" she said quickly, as if hoping he wasn't. Halt was forcefully reminded of Myda and her never-ending questions of hell.

"Ah—no, I'm not angry with you. I thought you hated _me_," he confessed in a somewhat choked voice. He looked miserable, Pauline noticed. "Where is Crowley, Pauline?"

"Right behind you," came another voice, and Halt spun around. There was still a bit of dried blood on Crowley's face below his nose, where he'd missed when trying to wipe it all off, but other than that looked fine. He also looked a bit sullen. "Where have you been? And how did you get her to open her door?" he complained, sounding like the Crowley that Halt liked best.

"I told her it was me," Halt replied. "I was sitting in a corner before a girl came and cheered me up by annoying me so much I was ready to tear her arms off. Or her mouth; she asked way too many questions and wouldn't push that hair of hers out of her face."

"Oh, you met Myda," Pauline said dully. "Yes, she's always like that. You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"Of course not," Halt said, somewhat offended.

"You were sitting in a corner." Crowley looked somewhat incredulous. "You went off and hid? From _who_?" Understanding dawned in his eyes. "You weren't beat up by the Battleschool boys, were you?"

"No," Halt snapped, angry at his tone, which was full of contempt. He knew Crowley was about to leave, and said, "Crowley. Wait. There's something else that I have to say."

Crowley sighed in exasperation, and turned back to Halt. "What is it?"

"I've been a fool." Halt hated admitting things like that. "An ass."

"I normally wouldn't argue with you, but what the hell are you talking about, Halt? Yes, you're definitely an ass, but what is this? Confession time?"

Halt gritted his teeth but went on. Crowley was definitely not making this any easier for him. "I've always done stupid and idiotic things to make you angry (sometimes on purpose) but I never told you I was sorry. I'm sorry, Crowley."

"Apology not accepted."

Halt had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but summoned the rest of his strength to deal with this and said, "I understand."

"Actually, Halt, you don't. You've never _ever_ said sorry before—for anything. You were still used to being a pampered, spoiled Prince, even after you came to Araluen and ran away from home. You've finally changed. You're not the same person, Halt. Therefore, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for."

"Aw," Pauline said from in the doorway, almost touched by this exchange.

"Quiet," the two boys said in unison. They went back to what they were saying; Halt was grinning now. Pauline rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, my best friend," Crowley said cheerfully. "Now that that's cleared up, I should admit something as well. I was never actually angry with you, Halt. Myda, Pauline and I were just trying to get you to stop being such an ass."

Halt looked incredulous. "You're not serious."

"No, I'm not. Pauline had no idea. It was just me and Myda. We didn't plan this, really, but aye. It was pretty fun, dontcha know." He was, for some odd reason, trying to imitate Halt's brogue, but failing miserably.

"You say it," Halt told him, "like _this_, dontcha know."

"I'm trying my best," Crowley told him, assuming a hurt look. "I'm not a Hibernian Prince like you, Halt. I'm just a normal little Araluen boy who gets mocked and punched by his friends each and every day. I don't have the exciting, danger-filled life you do."

"Of course, if you call having your twin brother try to kill you exciting, then I suppose I do," Halt replied in a deadly serious voice. Crowley winced, and turned to Pauline with a depressed look.

"Nobody understands me," he complained.

**Sorry. That was a lame way to end the chapter, I know. ):**

**Well, you can still R&R, you know(;**

**Velvet out XD**


	7. Author's Note

All right. Well goshers. How dumb am I? XD! This is an author's note, btw...if you haven't noticed. ^?^

Well, anyway, I'd been busy and forgot to mention something. Chapter Six was suppose to be dedicated to the ahwesome spookisapuppy (love the name btw XD!). She guessed where I got the title for my little ahwesome fanfic which, of course, is ahwesome. Mostly because I, Velvet (or Cori, whatever floats your boat), wrote it, and because I'm an insanely ahwesome author person. Well, nearly. So yeah lol. Good job, spookisapuppy, and thanks to all my other reviewers!

Oh, and I might as well break the news. Only one more chapter of Unlikely Hero left, you know...it'll be all over soon. And then I'll start to write more fluffery fluff stories about the best friends Halt and Crowley, Halt's childhood sweatheart the ahwesome Pauline (who, if I do say so myself, was written wonderfully), and, just maybe, Halt's apprentice Will and his other, beloved other, apprentice Gil. So just keep reading my stories and I won't rip your arms off(:

XD! Ik. I'm evil. But you know you still love me.

Velvet out! XD! Haha.


	8. Chapter 7: Epilogue

**All right. Aye, it's me, dontcha know? Lmao(:**

**Well, since you guys are my faithful readers (and sometimes reviewers) I'll tell you my real nickname. It's Cori. So you can call me that in reviews and stuffers...so yup. Wow. So how about you read and all? Lol because I hate fluffery, trust moments XD! Bring on the action! Lol(:**

**Oh, and this is, sadly, the last chapter of Unlikely Hero. I've enjoyed writing this, and I'm glad you all enjoyed it as well. I'll be writing a lot more, since I'll be around for a while, and you can all keep on reviewing and reading my writing :). See? I did a normal smiley face. That's how serious I am at the moment. Which isn't very XD! Well, enjoy the last chapter of Unlikely Hero!**

Epilogue

"And that, Will, is how I met Pauline." Halt, finished with his long story, sat back in his chair and sipped a cup of coffee. Crowley gazed at him with distaste, Will saw with amusement.

"Halt skipped on a lot," Crowley told Gilan and Will. "He seems to have forgotten the part where I walked in on the two of them kissing. I still have that memory imprinted in my mind. It's not the most wonderful thing to think of, you know."

Will gave a snort. "Did you really?"

"He probably did," Gil said, grinning. Halt assumed a hurt look.

"Crowley lies; don't listen to him," he said. Crowley rolled his eyes, still thinking back to the time when the three friends had all been eighteen years old. A year after the story had taken place, Myda had died very suddenly from a sickness nobody had known she had. Halt, Crowley, and Pauline had suffered most, having been very close to the tiny girl.

"Did Halt ever ask Pauline to another dance?" Will asked curiously, directing the question at Crowley; he didn't trust Halt enough to answer something like this. It was a good idea not to, he thought, with good reason.

"He did, once," Pauline called from the kitchen. "But then he went and got himself sick, so he couldn't take me. He tried to, of course, but threw up the moment we got there. Nobody was particularly pleased with him, as I recall."

Gilan smirked. Halt, noticing the small smile of satisfaction, turned his dark, unwavering gaze to his former apprentice. "Gil," he said in an idle voice (Gilan noticed the dangerous quality to it immediately), "I seem to remember the time, the fifth week you were my apprentice, where you tried to pretend not to be sick. Didn't you vomit on my cloak after you ate?"

Gilan's grin faded instantly. "I didn't mean to!" he complained. Before the tall man could continue, though, Crowley interrupted.

"Anyway, Halt left out a lot in his oh-so-famous storytelling—"

"—Who says my storytelling is famous?" Halt cut in, looking somewhat incredulous.

"—and so I had better tell it right."

"Oh, great," Halt said sarcastically. "Here comes Mr. Embellishment to ruin a well-told story of a nice old memory of mine to cure the winter blues."

"Shut up, Halt," Crowley said absently.

"You know, I still know how to pin you to the ground, Crowley. I would be careful if I were you."

"Yes, and you still remember how to call yourself an ass, don't you? I'd hope so, otherwise I take back the accepted apology."

"Language," Halt reproved automatically.

"You didn't seem to mind when you were eighteen."

"Shut up, Crowley, Halt," Pauline called from the kitchen, bringing in some more coffee. She knew that the Rangers would want some more soon.

"Yes, Pauline," Halt and Crowley said in unison. They all accepted the coffee gratefully.

Taking a deep draft of his coffee, Crowley gathered his thoughts for a moment, and then began with the 'real' story of four young men and women, a single friendship, and a disastrous young romance.

"Will, Gil, this is how it really happened...,"

And so began, once again, the story about a small boy who turned out to be an unlikely hero.


	9. Last Author's Note

And that's it. I still can't believe I actually finished the freaking story XD! I was pretty proud. Oh, shuckey darn, now you guys expect more stuffers from me, dontcha now? XD! (:

Well, golly Moses! You'll GET more stuffers from me! And you'll getters it soon(:

For the last time in this story, Velvet out.


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